


Extended Free Skate

by Opalsong



Series: Grand Prix Run [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: BDSM, Bathing/Washing, Breathplay, Butt Plugs, Edging, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Feeding, Flogging, Future Fic, Garters, Innuendo, Kink, Lingerie, M/M, Massage, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Podfic Available, Spanking, Vibrators, corsets, hyperventilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:16:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9962090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalsong/pseuds/Opalsong
Summary: Otabek won silver at Worlds.  Yuri was going win gold at fucking domming.(Fuck his brain and its fucking innuendos.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allnuthatchforest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allnuthatchforest/gifts).



> Also for neomeruru on twitter. All the kinky porn is blamed on them and allnuthatchforest. You are the WORST (best cheerleaders!).  
> Thanks to Ailis_Fictive for beta. If I write a 100k epic about Yuri learning how to make friends and be a real boy it will be all your fault.
> 
> WARNING: THIS CONTAINS A DETAILED VISCERAL DESCRIPTION OF HYPERVENTILATION  
> (let me know if you need to know which section to skip)
> 
> EDIT (08.23.2017): Changed the name of Otabek's friend with kids (and kid to kids) and the place where Yuri trains with another of Otabek's friends to Canada to be in continuity with the prequel.

Yuri turned the television off with a click; the replay of Otabek’s silver medal free skate at Worlds earlier that day was not enough to hold his attention right now.  Yuri had been in the arena when it happened, of course.  That’s what you do. Your cheer your boyfriend on.  But he hadn’t stayed afterward; he’d given Otabek a tight hug and a quick kiss (they weren’t Victor and Katsudon after all. And no, he won’t let that die. Even four years later) after the medal ceremony and whispered that he’d have a surprise in their hotel room once Otabek finally made it back.  This was a celebration of Otabek’s triumph and Yuri planned to bring some things they were working on in the last off season back in a big way.  Hopefully a better way than last year. 

Yuri grimaced as he remembered his ineptitude and glanced around the room to make sure everything was ready.  He hurried to fill the bath with epically hot water (way too hot for him. Seriously, was Otabek some kind of fucking Targaryen or something?) complete with some weird scented stuff that Mila had gotten him addicted to three years ago.  He still had no idea what the fuck they were (but they made his skin super soft and Otabek loved the smell so Yuri didn’t question it too much).  Otabek had texted him five minutes ago to say he was finally leaving and then Yuri had gotten distracted by the skating on TV (which, fuck. Seriously. Fuck his boyfriend for being so attractive. Great normally. Not so great when trying to concentrate on anything but him. Even getting stuff ready for him was hard sometimes. Hard. That was the problem right now and shit. Yuri could not believe he had just thought that. Fuck. Now he wanted to go wash his brain with soap.)

“Yuri?” And of course Otabek came in then. Yuri hastily turned off the tap (fuck fuck fuck! How long had he been out of it? The tub was nearly too full) and booked it out of the bathroom.  Otabek was standing there, sweaty and exhausted from skating and all the other bullshit, but fucking glowing and ecstatic and seriously looking good enough to eat. 

No way around it. Yuri stared for a minute straight, boxing Otabek in the small entryway. Otabek must get it because he swallowed.

“I’m not sure I have the concentration for this, Yuri,” Otabek said and fuck! His eyes were too bright and almost glassy as he wavered between the high of winning and the exhaustion of skating that hard and long (and fuck his brain).  There went all Yuri’s plans.

“FUCK!” Shit. That was way too loud. And way too whiny. Tonight was so SO not about him. “Shit. I just wanted to do something special for you.” He couldn’t even look Otabek in the eyes anymore.  He just looked over Otabek’s head to the door.

“What did you have planned?” Otabek asked.  Yuri knew that was fair.  After the first time, Yuri, overconfident in his new role as a dom, had surprised him and missed a bunch of signals and Otabek actually had to safeword out.  Fuck, Yuri felt like shit just thinking about it.  They’d talked after that.  So much fucking talking.  So many feelings.  But Otabek was worth it. Otabek was worth all of the gushy, mushy, gross talking in the world. Yuri had even found a fucking how-to youtube channel and streamed classes where he actually took notes and asked questions because Otabek was fucking worth it.  And if he was worth it then, then he was definitely fucking worth it now.  Yuri took a deep breath and told him the plan. Otabek smiled.

Yuri seriously felt like he could do four quads in a row. Shit. Otabek’s smiles always did that to him.

“Okay, Yuri. If you think you can pull it off I’ll put myself in your hands.”  And Yuri was disgustingly in love with this guy all over again.

Yuri nodded. “What’s your safeword?” he asked. This was their signal.

“Spade.” Otabek said the word in his native language, but Yuri knew exactly what it was.  Otabek’s eyes were already drooping in anticipation. Yuri grinned. This was going to be fucking amazing.

“Strip and get in the bath. Leave your clothes, I’ll get them. Don’t wash yourself yet, just relax,” Yuri ordered. Otabek immediately pulled off his tracksuit and everything underneath it and walked into the bathroom. Yuri’s eyes lingered on Otabek’s glorious shoulders, slowly tracking down his back to his ass, taking in the beginning of bruises and the tenseness in various muscles. The tenseness would be gone by the end of this but the bruises. Well. They sure wouldn’t look the same, heh.

Yuri picked up the clothes and folded them in one of the few unused drawers. He knew it would bother Otabek otherwise. Then he went to kneel beside the tub, stopping at the mini-fridge along the way. He held out the opened bottle of cold sports-drink and said “Drink it”.  Otabek reached for it but Yuri wound his fingers through Otabek’s hair and tipped his head back.  Otabek’s eyes slipped shut and his mouth fell open. Yuri carefully raised the bottle to Otabek’s mouth and poured the liquid in. Otabek swallowed beautifully.  A few drops of the drink spilled out to decorate Otabek’s chin in bright orange. Yuri set the empty bottle down and skimmed a finger up Otabek’s chin to collect the spill. He contemplated his finger for a moment. Otabek’s eyes opened a sliver and he made a low needy sound. Yuri slid his finger into Otabek’s still open mouth and dragged it along his tongue.

Yuri pulled his finger out; Otabek hadn’t even tried to suck it. Shit, this was getting to him. They might not get through the whole evening.  Well, it they didn’t then they didn’t; Yuri would feel like a failure but he was pretty sure Otabek wouldn’t care. He glanced down at Otabek’s dick which was chubbing up but nowhere near hard yet. That was fine. Yuri was just getting started. He took his hand back from Otabek’s hair to unwrap a Powerbar; Otabek’s neck stayed craned, head back exactly where Yuri had pulled it to, mouth still open and waiting. Fuck did Yuri want to feed Otabek his dick right now. Shit, he was gorgeous. But not now. That would come later.  Instead he fed the powerbar into Otabek’s waiting mouth and ordered “Chew.”

By the time Otabek had consumed the entire bar Yuri could tell the steaming water had done its job and relaxed him. Otabek had melted into the tub, conforming to its curves and spilling over the edges, the only stiff part of him the line of his neck where Yuri had placed it. Yuri glanced over him, and yeah, still the only stiff part - Otabek’s cock was still mostly soft. But his face was relaxed and his eyes were closed so they were still on track. Yuri nodded to himself. Hadn’t fucked it up yet.

“Time to get you clean,” Yuri muttered, mostly to himself, but also as a cue to Otabek of what to expect next.  Otabek let out a soft pleased noise and Yuri got to work.   


Yuri grabbed a new, fluffy washcloth and the soap and started to wash Otabek.  He began with innocent places, all easily reachable without having to move Otabek. Shoulders, neck, behind the ears, arms and hands and fingers. Fuck he was gorgeous. Yuri lavished attention on every part he could get at. He carefully placed each arm and hand back within the water after he was done with it. He moved on to Otabek’s feet and was careful to apply enough pressure that it didn’t tickle; this wasn’t the fucking time for that. He continued up calves and thighs until he reached the waterline, then broke off. Otabek made a fucking gorgeous small unhappy sound and Yuri flicked him a smile.

“We’ll get there, don’t worry.” A glance down showed that Otabek’s dick was a little more interested now. Fuck yes. This was working. Now front or back first?

“Turn over,” Yuri said. He wanted to see if Otabek was together enough to do it, that’d indicate a lot about how this was going to go. Otabek’s eyes slitted open and his mouth gave a twitch of a grin that said he knew exactly what Yuri was testing here. Then he rolled over without spilling so much as a drop of water, fucking show-off.

“Hands and knees for me,” Yuri said and Otabek obeyed without hesitation. Yuri fumbled with the soap for a moment, almost dropping it, because fuck that was hot. Then he did actually drop the soap into the bath because Otabek, glistening with water, head bowed, his forehead touching the water was just too much. Otabek snickered a little and Yuri scowled. Then he smirked and reached under Otabek, forearm brushing ever so lightly against his cock as he grabbed the soap and drew back. Otabek’s snickers turned into a breathy almost-moan.  Which Yuri ignored, thank you very much, while he set about washing Otabek’s back. Otabek was leaning into it now, following the movements of the cloth as Yuri moved on to washing his shoulders. Yuri spent more time than he needed to there, watching them shift and flex. Then he switched to upper thighs and Otabek made that disgruntled noise again. He let out a  _ hmm _ of approval as Yuri began to wash his ass. Yuri washed it thoroughly. So thoroughly. Then he opened up Otabek’s cheeks and scrubbed across his hole. Otabek was always sensitive to ass play and Yuri was relieved that this didn’t fail him now. He scrubbed along his crack and down toward his cock, not ever quite touching Otabek’s balls. Otabek was whining a little now, trying to push back into Yuri’s hands. Yuri grinned. This was going to be good. He took some soap (he had bought this stuff fucking special, not only did it smell awesome but it was fine for use inside too. Yuri was the best fucking boyfriend) and lathered up one hand. He took his index finger and swirled it around Otabek’s entrance to get that lather all over it. Otabek grunted and dropped his head even lower. Yuri glanced over in alarm.

“Head back,” he ordered, a little more sharply than he’d intended, and Otabek’s head snapped up, flinging water everywhere. “Your head can drop, but no more than hair in the water.”   


Otabek’s head dropped down again, two wisps of bangs the only thing that touched the water now. Yuri was fucking pleased with himself for preventing his boyfriend’s drowning. (He was so relieved he’d noticed. Maybe that meant he was getting better at this. That Otabek was right to trust him.) Yuri started moving his finger again. Then he slowly dipped it in. Shit, Otabek was tight. He was always tight. Yuri moaned a little at the thought and figured what the hell and said it out loud.

“Always so fucking tight, gonna have to loosen you the fuck up after you’re clean.” Otabek shivered at that and Yuri got down to business. He switched fingers to one with more soap and cleaned Otabek’s insides, paying special attention to the bump that was his prostate. Otabek was breathing hard by the time Yuri pulled his finger (aw yeah, definitely didn’t move past a single finger) out of him. Otabek let out a noise of protest but Yuri just said,

“Clean as you’re going to get there without an enema. And I didn’t bring the stuff for that.” Otabek shot him a lazy glare but dropped his head back down.

“Okay, stand up. I need to wash your front. If you can’t manage on your own you can lean on-,” Yuri broke off because shit, Otabek couldn’t lean on him. Not with his fucking ankle in a cast.  He was hardly supposed to be walking himself, much less supporting someone else’s weight, “the wall. Shoulders back against the wall.” he finished. He leaned over to pull the plug on the bath and Otabek stood up, rising in Yuri’s vision like a water god come to tempt a mortal, and shit he had been spending way too much time around Victor if he was coming up with shit like that - not untrue though. Otabek stood and leaned back against the tile.

Yuri stayed on his knees. He had the best fucking view of Otabek’s dick - hard now and flushed from the heat and arousal. Yuri grinned. His pants were getting uncomfortable but this was sure as fucking hell not about him. He grabbed the soap and lathered up the washcloth again. Then he stood and washed Otabek’s chest, paying special attention to his nipples. Otabek was whining again, and making small movements with his hips. Yuri pulled back and raised an eyebrow. Otabek tipped his head back, that gorgeous throat exposed, water still dripping down it, and stopped moving. Yuri nodded and continued cleaning his nipples. They were peaked now, and flushed, responding beautifully to the cloth. So obviously it was time to move on. Yuri made his way down Otabek’s chest to his hips. He carefully washed everything he had missed before finally turning his attention to Otabek’s dick. He re-lathered the cloth and set to work, scrubbing and lathering every inch of cock and balls in the cleanest hand job he’d ever given.  Fuck, he should just shove the soap right into his brain if he was going to keep thinking shit like that.

Otabek was very obviously trying not to move now, restraint in every line of his body. Yuri just worked him harder. He started to twist his wrist the way he did when they were in the bathrooms after a fucking fantastic skate and both of them needed a fast release. Otabek went silent except for his heavy breathing and Yuri knew this was it. He gave Otabek’s dick two more glorious strokes and then pulled off. Otabek convulsed once before he pulled himself together but a ragged “Please” slipped past his control.

“Not yet. Later.” Yuri promised. He gave Otabek’s dick once final caress to say goodbye and then grabbed the shampoo, ignoring Otabek’s ragged intake of breath. He washed Otabek’s hair, rinsing with the shower, while he came down.   


He dried Otabek, paying special attention to his fucking amazing nipples (seriously, so sensitive), dick, and ass. Getting him worked up again, or rather not letting him come down all the way.

“On the bed.  Face down,” Yuri directed and Otabek staggered over and flopped onto the bed, hips grinding once before they stilled. Yuri’s boyfriend had the most amazing fucking control.

 

****

 

Otabek sank into the sheets of the hotel bed and groaned. Whose idea was it to have Free Skate at noon, then a round with media, then a charity skate (which was an amazing concept: people paid amounts of money Otabek doesn’t want to think about to skate with the competitors), and then on top of it all have the Exhibition skate in the evening? Whoever it was had a streak of sadism so deep they were worse than Yuri right now. Otabek held himself utterly still; it was killing him slowly not to grind into the bed but fuck if he was going to break now. All they’d done was bathe.

Yuri came limping out of the bathroom in his walking cast, wet from washing Otabek, and Otabek wanted to arch his back and preen, just from the weight of his gaze. On the other hand, Otabek never wanted to move again. He went with that part and just let himself melt into the sheets; sprawling just a little more, legs spreading just a touch.

Yuri snorted. Otabek could see a fond smile on his face. “Yeah, stay like that. I’m not tying you up now. Fuck, I don’t even have to tie you up, you’re a limp noodle as it is.”

Otabek nodded, rubbing his cheek against the pillow. It was true; after the bath and his whole day, he was honestly a little afraid he was going to fall asleep on Yuri. Yuri seemed to realize his worries.

“If you fall asleep that’s fine,” he said, “I’ll just keep going with the plan, okay?”

Otabek nods again. 

“Words, Otabek,” Yuri said, in that voice that drew all of Otabek to attention. Like standing on the ice in front of a coach.

“Yes,” Otabek mumbled, “green.” He added the colour for good measure.

Yuri grinned again and then rummaged around in a drawer. He brought out massage oil.  Suddenly the non-hotel standard sheets made sense. As did the odd feeling beneath them; plastic, to save the mattress. Yuri could be thoughtful; he’d swear the entire time and deny it to his dying day but it did happen.

“Let’s fucking get you loosened up,” Yuri said as he climbed onto the bed. Otabek smiled lazily at the innuendo before closing his eyes and letting Yuri work.

It started out as a regular massage. Yuri had learned to give amazing massages somewhere and Otabek happily took advantage of this skill whenever he could. Yuri started with his scalp and moved down, working out all the kinks and knots that had accumulated over a hard day of skating. Otabek forgot completely about his cock and just lost himself to Yuri’s hands, the pain and release they gave him. He lost time. He did every time Yuri did this, but today was even more intense. They’d never used massage as part of a scene and Otabek had no fucking clue why not; he was sinking deeper and faster than usual. He wasn’t nervous, Yuri had a plan and knew Otabek’s body. They had months more of getting to know each other - and months more of research and planning if Otabek knew anything about Yuri - since the last time they tried to scene.

Otabek wasn’t typically vocal during scenes until he was completely overwhelmed, but massages were a different matter. He kept hissing when Yuri’s hands dug into knots and groaning as the muscle finally released - Otabek’s body slowly surrendering to Yuri’s prowess.

Otabek had no idea how long it had been when Yuri reached his ass. He was drifting, and had been for what felt like hours. He focussed a little as Yuri finished up with his lower back, waiting and realizing that while his cock had relaxed with him, his libido certainly hadn’t. He started to tense again as Yuri stood up.

“Oh, stop that.”

The words were accompanied by a sharp slap to his ass that startled Otabek right out of his head for a moment. When he managed to stop floating and come back to himself, Yuri was massaging one foot. Otabek held back a resigned sigh. And yet. Yuri massaging his feet and calves was almost better than sex and definitely worth delaying it. As Yuri released muscles that had spent all day straining (feet cramped in skates and calves holding him balanced) he felt a bliss that rivaled orgasm wash over him in slow waves. Yuri didn’t have to do more than this and Otabek would follow his every order.

The massage lulled him back into a hazy existence where Otabek’s only tethers to his body were where Yuri touched him. The pain-release stronger in his legs. Otabek lost time again. He had no idea how long it took Yuri to finish both legs and reach Otabek’s ass again. But Yuri got there. And once he was there Otabek groaned as he continued the massage. Getting Otabek’s glutes to release their tension. Otabek was so far gone that he didn’t hear the pop of the lid for the lube, only realizing where this was going when Yuri’s slick fingers started to massage between his ass cheeks.

Yuri had been silent this whole time; his touch the only thing needed to assure Otabek of his presence. But now he spoke.

“Otabek?” he whispered, apparently trying not to wake him if he was asleep.

Otabek could barely get himself together enough to make noise on command but he did it. He dredged an interrogative moan up from his core and let it rumble through his chest.

Yuri breathed out a matching affirmative and went back to silently stroking across Otabek’s hole, massaging the muscles there. As he stroked and massaged, Otabek found himself drifting closer to the surface, pulled by the tiny sparks of pleasure. Yuri dipped the tip of one finger in and slowly hooked it and dragged it out. It was then that Otabek knew he was in trouble. Yuri’s hands were glorious, long slim fingers that had the strength and skill to drive Otabek out of his mind. That appeared to be what Yuri was trying to do now.

Slowly, so slowly Otabek kept missing the individual steps, Yuri worked his fingers into Otabek.  He never stayed and always, always continued to massage him. Otabek thought Yuri was at three fingers when he first brushed Otabek’s prostate but after he’d pulled his hand back, he splayed it briefly on Otabek’s ass cheeks and Otabek realized it was only two. Otabek felt like sobbing already.

Yuri never focussed on Otabek’s prostate, but he never avoided it either, which meant a slow, unrelenting tease that Otabek couldn’t (wouldn’t) get away from. Otabek could feel his cock getting hard, stiffening under his body in a way that was slightly uncomfortable, but not unbearable. He didn’t have the strength to move, even if he wanted to disobey and grind himself to completion on the sheets.

By the time Yuri got to four fingers Otabek was pretty sure his cock was actually drooling on the sheets and his voice was trying to produce something recognizable as  _ please _ but failing and only managing a continuous soft moan.

“I could probably fit my entire fist in you right now,” Yuri said casually and Otabek felt his eyes roll up into his head at just the thought of it, moan breaking off into a gasp. He’d do it slowly too.  Get Otabek so used to it that he would feel empty for days afterwards, like he was missing a limb.

“Not sure I could do it without you coming though,” Yuri said a little sadly. And Otabek agreed.  He was so close right now that even the thought was pushing him up to the edge. Which was why the fucking bastard pulled back. Hand fully out in one motion, much swifter than any he’d used so far. Otabek’s hips tried to follow, against his will, but his exhaustion and the massage helped him out, because he was so limp he couldn’t even twitch. If Otabek had enough energy and focus he would be cursing Yuri’s entire existence right now. But all he could do was lay there and wait for whatever Yuri had planned next.

Yuri moved off the bed and something rattled in a drawer near by. Otabek felt the bed dip as Yuri came back to kneel beside him. And then hastily warmed metal touched his ass and Otabek cursed the day he had introduced Yuri to the Scene because that was a plug. One of the gorgeous metal ones that Yuri had found with a gem in the end that matched Yuri’s Short Program outfit. Yuri slipped it into Otabek with absolutely no resistance, conscious or unconscious; Otabek was too loose and relaxed for that. The plug nestled there, resting just shy of his prostate (a fact which Otabek was grateful for). Yuri left the bed again.

“Just washing my hands,” he called before water started in the bathroom. He was back a minute later; long enough for Otabek to rein himself in from the edge and really start to be thankful for the plug. He was starting to feel slightly empty because the plug was smaller than four of Yuri’s fingers. Otabek still had no idea how long they’d been in him for. It could be morning for all he knew.  Maybe the following evening and he’s missing the Gala to be fingered by his boyfriend.  That thought warmed him to his toes. He knew, even now, that regardless he’d be going to the Gala feeling this night, feeling Yuri’s hands on him and in him. It made him not hate the idea of it quite so much.

“Let’s get you turned over,” Yuri said when he got back. Otabek opened one eye just the slightest amount, but even that was enough to see Yuri’s smirk.

“I haven’t done your front after all.”

Otabek let out a defeated whimper at that. The press could call him a “Russian Fairy” all they wanted (though to be fair they were using that less and less as the years went by) but Otabek knew he was a devil in disguise. (In his less fevered moments Otabek was actually completely willing to believe that Yuri was the Faust of figure skating. Only, being Yuri, he’d managed to out do whatever unbeatable bargain the demon set and have his soul and also the demon-given power. Yuri was that good; that driven. He was still trying to get Yuri to skate to the violin piece from Faust but he hadn’t persuaded him. Yet.) Yuri’s hands were gentle as they rolled him over.  Otabek opened his eyes and Yuri smiled at him; that soft one that only Otabek got to see.  Otabek couldn’t help but smile back.

“Close your eyes if you want,” Yuri said, “if you fall asleep that’s fine.”

Otabek frowned slightly at that; there was no way he was going to fall asleep if Yuri kept teasing him. A glance down his own body and he could see his cock was still hard, even after the break.  He glanced at Yuri and saw his erection straining his pants. His lips parted almost on instinct as he looked. Yuri tracked his gaze and snorted.

“Yeah, no. Not what we’re doing right now. This is about you, not me.”

“What if I want it,” Otabek managed to slur out. Shit, he wasn’t even sure if that was English.

Yuri raised an eyebrow and then reached out and twisted one of Otabek’s nipples, hard. Otabek would have screamed if he had the energy. As it was, his eyes rolled back in his head and he couldn’t breathe for what felt like a short eternity.

“Breathe in,” Yuri ordered, stern, and Otabek obeyed. Air filled his lungs and he gulped down two more lungfuls before he evened out. Once he had, Yuri continued in a more conversational tone.

“I’m in charge, not you. If you wanted to have a say in this you should have said it before we started and if you need to have a say now you know how to stop it. Do you remember your safeword?” Otabek nodded and just. Yuri owned him right now and there was no one else who could compare.

Otabek had been with several Doms in his time. Before he and Yuri were a couple, he’d go out with friends and have a good time every couple nights in the off-season. One of his regular hookups had introduced him to the scene and he’d never looked back. He could really stretch himself to his limits here and push and push until he found limits he didn’t know he had. He’d subbed for that hookup while he tried a bit of everything. He wanted to know what he liked, what worked for him, what really really didn’t. Eventually they found out their tastes didn’t match well enough and Otabek moved on. No one kept up with him in the long term and there were limits and activities that Otabek wanted to try but needed to really trust the Dom to do.

Then Yuri happened. For a long time, Otabek wasn’t sure how Yuri would fit into things; whether he could give Otabek what he needed. When Otabek tentatively brought up BDSM Yuri had scoffed and changed the subject in a way that Otabek knew now was nerves and an unwillingness not to be the best at everything but at the time just thought meant that Yuri was completely uninterested and maybe even offended. Otabek thought maybe that was the end of their relationship right there. Yuri hated something that Otabek needed.

Except a couple weeks later Yuri showed up, blustering and yelling and ordering Otabek to do things. Otabek didn’t get it at first and when he did he nearly laughed. Then he tried to sit Yuri down to talk about it and yeah, Otabek didn’t want to think about the early days of trying to scene with Yuri. It wasn’t pretty. They’d worked their way to amazing sex eventually. Generally not when they were trying to scene but that was okay. Even when they weren’t in a scene Yuri knew Otabek. Knew figure skaters in general. Knew what they, and Otabek in particular, were capable of; how far and in what directions to push without interfering with skating. 

They worked out the scening eventually too. Every other time they’d been successful they talked and planned for weeks before trying anything though. This was new. But Yuri had it under control. He was listening to Otabek’s responses (even though they were pretty much just bodily reactions right now) and working with that. Otabek was really eager to see how far Yuri could push him. Well, he’d be more eager if he wasn’t half asleep. The massage Yuri had started up again wasn’t helping the matter either.   


Yuri smiled as Otabek opened his eyes.

“Back with me?” he asked softly; Otabek smiled slightly in response, “Great. It’ll be more fun with you paying attention to this part.”

Otabek started to worry at that. Yuri had started with his scalp again and worked over his face and neck. He was just finishing with Otabek’s shoulders. Otabek realized what was coming next with the sort of dread and desire of facing the final few, insurmountable seconds of a tough free skate. Yuri was eyeing his pecs with the air of the tiger he always claimed to be. Then his expression smoothed out and he began a massage so professional Otabek could have been in the spa attached to the hotel.

Unlike the professionals in the hotel spa, though, Yuri didn’t avoid his nipples and Otabek wanted to curse as Yuri’s hands pushed on them and worked the muscles underneath. His breath hissed between his teeth as Yuri finished one pec and moved on.  He closed his eyes and breathed through it. Yuri knew that Otabek’s nipples were sensitive (there was a reason he wore thick shirts to skate and it wasn’t because he was modest), and he used that knowledge unrelentingly. He hadn’t ever made Otabek come just from playing with them yet but Otabek had high hopes for the future.

Just when Otabek thought he was past the blissful torture, Yuri grinned.  That grin said that Otabek couldn’t possibly think he was getting off that easily. Otabek was aware that he actually wasn’t getting off at all right now, heh, but the point still stood. Yuri looked fantastic. He was kneeling beside Otabek, hair restrained in a low ponytail, lightly flushed from the work of the massage and the arousal of working on Otabek. Yuri let the grin fade into something softer as he saw Otabek looking and leaned down to indulge in a deep, slow kiss. Otabek sank into it, letting everything else fade away.

Yuri continued to kiss him for the next unknowable amount of time. Otabek didn’t lose time so much as Yuri stole it from him with lips and tongue. Then he pulled back, and before Otabek could gather himself, those lips closed around one nipple and sucked. Otabek froze with pleasure. Yuri released the nub and said softly,

“Otabek?”

Otabek struggled to collect himself enough to respond. Yuri had to call his name twice more, hand coming to cup protectively over the nipple that was the cause. Eventually Otabek manage to slur out,

“Green”

Yuri waited another beat then flattened the palm against Otabek’s pec and dug his fingers in.  Otabek had no idea how long Yuri played with his chest. He couldn’t focus enough to even really understand what exactly Yuri was doing. He was swamped with pleasure, drowning in it. It felt like his entire chest was bathed in blissful fire; nerves all crossing to send waves of pleasure through his entire body. He was sobbing softly, breath hitching on every inhale by the time Yuri moved on to his abs.

Otabek was actually grateful this time when Yuri stopped at his lower abdomen and moved all the way to his shins. He was shaky and only barely holding on to reality (and barely holding back his orgasm). Yuri worked seriously on his legs before paying attention to his hips. Otabek was gathering himself to say yellow, slow down, before Yuri rubbed up his flank and started working there, ignoring Otabek’s cock and sensitive inner thighs. Otabek reeled. Yuri had realized. Fuck. Otabek wanted to sob because he could trust Yuri, trust him to really know Otabek’s limits. How far he could push and when to stop. And when he could push past what Otabek thought he could do and on to where Yuri knew he could go. Yuri proved that when his mouth, that gorgeous, plush mouth, sucked lightly on the head of Otabek’s cock once before he went back to Otabek’s thighs.

Yuri kept him there, right at the edge of too much. Interrupting his serious massage with brief kisses or licks or sucks to Otabek’s cock and balls. He’d wrung every last drop of energy and coherence out of Otabek. He was sure he was making noise, incoherent pleading maybe? He wanted to reach for Yuri, wanted to call to him, really beg but just didn’t have the energy or wherewithal to do anything. He was pretty sure he couldn’t even physically move more than his eyelids at the moment and even that felt like a herculean task. He wasn’t even holding back his orgasm any more. Yuri was playing him like Faust played the fiddle and Otabek would be surprised if his body could get it together enough to figure out how to orgasm right now.

Right before Otabek felt like he might pass out from sensory overload, Yuri pulled back. Otabek felt cold and completely adrift after the onslaught. The feeling was cut off when he felt warmth bracket his ears, muffling outside noise.

Yuri’s hand gently pulled his jaw further open.

“You did so well Otabek.  You get a reward now.” Yuri’s voice was gentle. His hands were gentle too as they held Otabek’s face in place while he fed his cock right down Otabek’s throat. Normally Otabek had to fight his gag reflex, but now it was like it didn’t exist. Yuri rode his face with slow thrusts, staying mostly buried. He pulled back just enough to let Otabek breathe.  Otabek probably wouldn’t have, but Yuri exhaled on a,

“Breath in” every time he pulled back. Otabek followed him until Yuri pulled all the way out, groaning at the loss.

“Fuck, I wish I could just come down your throat but I’m not actually sure you wouldn’t choke,” he murmured. Otabek wanted that more than he wanted air right now; but honestly he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t choke either. He heard the slick sound of Yuri gripping his own cock moments before feeling wet splatters hit his face. Yuri melted down onto him and curled around him, careful of Otabek’s still sensitive areas.

“Sleep, okay?” he whispered, “We’re done for right now.”

Otabek barely heard that, sinking down into a truly glorious bone deep sleep.

 

****

 

Otabek looked fucking gorgeous sprawled out on the bed. Yuri’d passed out right along with him for like half an hour. He felt pretty shitty about it right now, because while cuddling was great (Yuri would cut anyone who said he thought that but it was true) he also had a responsibility to take care of Otabek and he’d left him uncovered and with his face covered in come for that half hour. What kind of shitty dom was he? Yuri was pretty sure Otabek would brush it off but Yuri knew he could be better. He’d scrambled (quietly) to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth wet with warm water once he’d realized what he’d done. The sight that had greeted him as he came out of the bathroom made Yuri’s breath catch even now. Otabek had shifted to lie on his front, head nestled in a pillow, face lax in sleep still with the remnants of Yuri’s pleasure painted over it. Otabek’s legs had spread slightly, one of them hitching up the bed into Yuri’s warm spot, the glint of the plug driving Yuri slowly out of his mind. He’d gently cleaned Otabek’s face. He’d been worried about waking him for about thirty seconds before he realized that Otabek was dead to the world and wouldn’t be waking anytime soon, no matter what Yuri did. He’d tucked the top sheet and blanket around him firmly before returning the cloth.  Then he’d gotten out the things he needed for the next part of the evening.

Yuri let Otabek sleep for a couple hours. He couldn’t let him sleep all night, they had stuff to do and Otabek had agreed on that, but fuck did Otabek need some sleep. Yuri was still pissed that he hadn’t been able to compete at Worlds, fucking ankle, but today’s schedule made him the very tiniest bit glad he hadn’t had to participate. Yuri would have fucking rocked it. But he didn’t have to. A few minutes before Otabek’s alarm went off (Yuri had set it a while ago) Yuri made the final last-minute preparations for the next part of the scene.

A weird workout remix of Symphony Number 9 started up (Otabek’s taste in music was fucking strange sometimes) and Otabek groaned and groped around the night stand for his phone. He hit the off button and then shifted to sit up and hissed. Yuri grinned. He could see Otabek’s face twist (Yuri was pretty sure he was remembering what happened earlier) and his mouth fall open on a slight groan. Whether that was from his muscles or the plug Yuri didn’t know but it made his still-red lips part in a fucking spectacular way.

“Hey,” he said gently. Yuri could fucking do gentle. Especially when Otabek was first waking up because waking up was shitty all around and Yuri wasn’t going to make it worse.

“Back with me?” he prodded, when Otabek just looked around blearily. His eyes caught Yuri’s and widened slightly. There was a slight flush across his cheekbones that Yuri revelled in.

“Yeah,” Otabek said, voice gravelly from sleep. Maybe also from earlier, though he hadn’t actually used it that loudly. Heh, the neighbours were going to fucking hate them after this night.

“Remember your safeword?” Yuri asked. He didn’t honestly think that Otabek would forget, but he wanted to check if Otabek remembered that they were scening and make sure that was still okay.

Otabek paused, gaze unfocusing for a moment before he looked back at Yuri and nodded sharply.  Fuck yes.

“Get up and use the bathroom. Do whatever you need but I want you clean and comfortable. If you need to take the plug out you can, but I want it back in by the time you come out. You have fifteen minutes.”

Otabek rolled out of the bed, staggering for a moment on overworked muscles, but then steadied himself and made his way to the bathroom. Yuri had planned the massage first so that Otabek’s muscles would be tired now (there was no getting around that after the day he’d had) but not sore or stiff. It seemed to have worked. The hitch in his steps caused by the plug made heat flare in Yuri’s gut and he made an appreciative noise as Otabek passed him. Otabek shot him a sly grin and the sway and hitch to his steps was more pronounced for the last couple feet to the bathroom. It took all Yuri’s control not to throw him back on the bed and ravage him right there. But he got himself under fucking control. This needed to last. He turned to a drawer and pulled out the things he needed next and laid them on the bed.

Otabek returned well before the fifteen minute mark. Yuri’d heard the shower run briefly, and Otabek brushing his teeth. Now Yuri stepped up to him and kissed him. Kissing Otabek was amazing; he was absolutely, delectably responsive. Right now he followed Yuri’s lead, allowing him to control how deep the kiss went (and when they weren’t scening, Otabek gave as good as he got.) Yuri kept the kiss light, just a hello, welcome back, I love you, sort of kiss. The kind of kiss Yuri wouldn’t be caught dead giving anyone outside this room. Then he stepped back., letting Otabek take in what he’d placed on the bed.

“Let’s get you dressed for dinner.”

Otabek let out a stifled “yes” before his eyes flicked to Yuri’s. He cleared his throat.

“Where do you want me?” Otabek asked.

“Sit there,” Yuri said, gesturing at a chair he’d pulled away from the table. Otabek sat immediately. Yuri was doing triple axels on the inside. They’d talked about this. These clothes.  Bought them together even. But by the time they arrived, the season had started and neither of them wanted to try anything new for a while.

Yuri grabbed the silky black stockings and knelt down at Otabek’s feet. He bunched up the stocking and said,

“Left foot.”

Otabek raised his left foot to hover just above Yuri’s lap. Yuri kissed his toes before carefully fitting Otabek’s foot into the foot of the stocking. He then slowly pulled the stocking up Otabek’s leg, dropping kisses on bare skin the entire way. Otabek squirmed slightly as the lacy top came to rest on his upper thigh and Yuri kissed all around it. He could see Otabek’s cock beginning to flush slightly. Yuri pulled back.

“Right foot,” he said and repeated the process. Slower and even more deliberate this time, but less carefully having done it once already. He sucked on Otabek’s toes briefly before starting and his kisses lingered more this time. Otabek was breathing deeply when Yuri was finished.  Yuri looked up and smiled at Otabek. Otabek smiled back and lost control of his breathing for a moment and that hitch sent Yuri whirling to face the bed before he lost it. He picked up the next piece and just held it for a moment, breathing.

“Stand up and walk to the mirror,” he said, and listened until Otabek stopped moving before he turned around. He walked over to Otabek and held out the corset for him to see. It was the real deal; none of this fucking lingerie lacy shit for them. The corset was black silky brocade with deep purple stitching. It was made for a masculine body but still had a soft, pretty look to it. It also had hard boning and the structure to actually do its job. 

Otabek let out a pleased sound when he saw it and, before Yuri could ask, raised his arms out to the sides. His eyes tracked the corset as Yuri came up behind him and wrapped it around him. Yuri met his gaze in the mirror briefly before Otabek’s head dropped. Yuri stepped up flush against Otabek’s back, moved one hand to hold the corset to Otabek’s stomach and grabbed his chin with the other. Yuri forced Otabek’s chin up.

“Eyes down, chin up. Your posture needs to be fucking perfect for this,” he said. Otabek licked his lips, catching the tip of one of Yuri’s fingers in the process. Yuri groaned; Otabek smirked catching Yuri’s eyes in the mirror, but he lowered them a second later.

“And you call me a brat,” Yuri scoffed as he stepped back, holding the corset with both hands again.

“Okay, I’m going to need your feedback for this. You’re going to be in this for a while, so don’t push it today. We’ll do it again and see how tiny we can make your waist then, got it?” Yuri said.  Otabek nodded, eyes glazing slightly (probably at the thought of the future scene) before snapping back to the present, gazing at the corset in the mirror.

“Hold here,” Yuri said, indicating the sides of the corset. Otabek moved his arms into position and held the corset to his body. Yuri went back to the bed and picked up the lacing for it, strong deep purple cording that matched the stitching and would hold against Otabek’s body. He turned around and just took a moment to take in Otabek, strong and gorgeous, legs shadowed by the black stockings, holding the corset against himself, eyes half lidded and watching the corset in the mirror. His hunger flared again.

Yuri strode back over and knelt. He sucked kisses into the flesh between the edges of the corset. Then he pulled back and pushed the cord through the first holes on the corset.  He moved up an increment and sucked more kisses before lacing the next set. Otabek let out a groan that was more of a curse than anything else and Yuri bit him on the next round. Then he spent longer in that spot, laving the injured area and working to make Otabek regret his impatience.   


Yuri continued up Otabek’s back, eventually standing and bending instead of kneeling. Finally, he finished. The lacing was loose right now, but that was about to change.

“Let me know when you can feel pressure,” he told Otabek. Otabek nodded again, not moving his eyes or hands.

Yuri began to tighten the lacing. Eventually Otabek made a noise and Yuri looked away from the laces, to the mirror. Otabek looked fine.

“You can feel it?” He asked. Otabek nodded.

“Could you wear this for hours?” Otabek nodded again.

“Could you skate in this?” Otabek nodded immediately again.

Yuri tightened the laces some more and then asked the questions again. They repeated this until Otabek only nodded on the first one. Yuri loosened the laces a little before tying the cord into a gorgeous bow. Otabek made a little disappointed noise when Yuri loosened the laces, so Yuri stepped close and breathed into his ear.

“Next time. I promise,” before stepping back and saying “Drop your arms.”

Otabek’s arms dropped and Yuri just admired him in the mirror for a moment, lace and silk framing him in a way Yuri had never seen before, cock more than half hard just from getting dressed. His waist a curved line in instead of the solid core it normally was.

“Stay there, you can drop your head if you want,” Yuri said as he turned to get the next part of the outfit. The next piece was very simple but also made Yuri swallow once they were on - straps and clips that attached to the corset and stockings, making the corset into a garter belt.  The straps framed Otabek’s ass and cock in a way that made him look like a photoshoot come to life.

“Fuck,” Yuri breathed out once they were attached, “You’re gorgeous.”

Otabek stretched in response. Preening under Yuri’s gaze. Yuri didn’t even blame him, he looked fucking delectable. Otabek’s cock swelled and lifted as he stretched and the movement allowed Yuri to catch a glimpse of the plug still nestled in his ass. Yuri cursed some more and tore his gaze away.

He came back to Otabek with the final items for the outfit. He knelt at Otabek’s feet once again.

“Left foot,” he said, and when Otabek raised the requested foot, Yuri slid on a deep purple stiletto heel. Yuri was aware they didn’t have much time now and so didn’t tease Otabek with the shoes. He slipped the right heel on just as fast.

Yuri gave Otabek a moment before asking him to lift his feet again so he could slide on a pair of silky black panties that were more lace than cloth with two long ribbons of black silk sewn onto each side. The ribbons were meant to be tied into bows but they looked gorgeous loose and brushing Otabek’s stockinged legs. Yuri brought the panties up to just under Otabek’s dick and then popped the thong up between his cheeks to rest in its proper place on the swell of his ass.  Then he let go and told Otabek to turn around.

Otabek turned, slightly unsteady in the heels. But they were figure skaters, used to balancing on knife edges on ice; heels were nothing. Yuri got a perfect view of Otabek’s balls and dick, now fully hard, pushed up by the panties wedged underneath them. Then he opened his mouth and swallowed Otabek whole.

Otabek let out a cry before cutting himself off with a hand over his own mouth. Yuri pulled off for a moment.

“Later I’m going to make you scream, but right now don’t let anyone hear you,” he said before diving back in. Otabek shut his mouth and locked his hands behind his back. Yuri couldn’t see if he was watching or not but he didn’t really care. Otabek was worked up enough that it didn’t take long before his hips were hitching and his breathing was ragged. Yuri held his hips still, feeling lace and silk under his hands. He’d pull back when he thought Otabek was getting close, kissing the length of his shaft or carefully tonguing his balls, trying to keep the panties clean.

Yuri kept going until there was a knock on the door.   


He pulled back and called out, “Just a moment.”

He turned back to Otabek who looked wrecked again, framed in lace and silk and flushed.  Yuri grabbed a towel from the bathroom and quickly dried off Otabek’s dick, not bothering to be gentle. Otabek looked like he was barely holding back noises. Then Yuri carefully pulled the panties up over Otabek’s dick and tucked him in, giving a last stroke. He tossed the cloth into the bathroom and grabbed a robe and tossed it to Otabek.

“Put that on and sit in the chair by the window. Keep your feet hidden.”

Otabek nodded. Once he was seated, Yuri glanced around the room again for suspect items in plain view. The place came up clean so Yuri went to the door and let room service in to set up the dinner he’d ordered.

Yuri waited in the entryway and observed the staff person. She was quick and efficient at getting everything set up but then she nearly ruined everything.

“Is there anything else you need?” she asked. The fucking problem was that she asked Otabek.  Yuri wasn’t sure if Otabek was together enough to answer. Before Yuri could yell and kick her out, Otabek replied.

“That’s fine, thank you,” he said, never taking his eyes off the window.  The staff person nodded and left.  Yuri opened his mouth to apologise but the moment the door clicked shut Otabek burst out into a moan.   


Yuri blinked, startled.

“Fuck, that isn’t something I thought of before but yeah. Shit, we need to do that on purpose sometime.” Otabek blurted out. Yuri was stunned. Otabek didn’t swear like he did.

“Do what? Fuck, I’m sorry. I thought she’d just set up and go or maybe just leave the cart in the hall-”

Otabek cut him off, “Having to pretend everything is normal while I’m right on the edge of orgasm apparently does it for me.” 

Yuri stiffened instinctively, then forced himself to relax. Otabek wasn’t hurt or stressed because of the mistake. He’d seemingly even found a new kink. This was good. This was fucking great.  Yuri still had to check in.

“You want to renegotiate now? Stop to eat?” he asked. Otabek looked startled. Then he seemed to play the last few minuted over in his head and visibly grimaced.

“I apologise for interrupting. And no, I’d like to continue,” Otabek said, bowing his head and lowering his gaze. Yuri breathed out.

“Later then. We’ll talk about corsets and that later. As for now,” Yuri grinned, “this isn’t as fucking formal. You don’t have to worry. Get that robe off and come kneel by my chair. We’re going to eat because we’re going to need the fucking strength.”   


The moment the words came out of his mouth he wanted to smack himself. What the fuck was up with his brain today. Otabek snorted and got up. He wobbled a bit on the heels but caught his balance and let the robe drop. Somehow, in the space of five minutes, Yuri had forgotten how Otabek looked in that outfit and fuck. He was hard, all over again. Eating first, damn it.

Otabek walked slowly over to Yuri (more because of the heels, Yuri thought, than on purpose) and knelt in front of the chair he was sitting in. Yuri perused the plethora of finger foods he’d ordered and grabbed a shrimp. He held it out to Otabek. With his other hand Yuri ate one himself.

“What do you want next?” Yuri asked and listed the options. Otabek chose grilled pineapple with ham. Yuri fed him the bite and ate one himself. They went on like that, Otabek choosing and both of them eating.

At first Otabek was coy, licking and sucking at Yuri’s fingers, clearly still on edge from the blowjob and the interaction with the waitstaff. But as the meal went on he settled down and both of them settled into eating. Every so often Yuri would lower a glass of water with a straw for Otabek to drink from. The first time he saw it Otabek had said,

“Really?” in this utterly unimpressed tone.   


Yuri shot back, “It’s either that or getting your new clothes all wet.” Otabek shut up and drank from the straw.

Almost before Yuri was ready, the meal was gone.

“Stand up and walk to the desk,” Yuri said after the last of the food was finished. Otabek rose, strength in his movements. He’d never have Yuri’s lithe grace but he had a solid strength that Yuri envied at times (he’d certainly never be called the “fairy” of anything). The heels added a sway to his hips as he made his way to the corner where the desk was. The black corset and panties were stark against his skin with the purple adding a regal element and the corset pulling his waist into a curve that didn’t naturally exist. Yuri was completely certain that if Otabek ever skated looking like this he’d be showered in gold (right before Yuri dragged him off the ice and into a nearby bathroom). Otabek’s dick was soft and nestled snugly behind the lace. Yuri was soft too after the time spent eating; neither condition would last long, he was sure.

Yuri opened another drawer and pulled out the toys he had in mind for this particular part of the scene. The first was a spreader bar. He let Otabek take a good long look at it. This was a toy they’d used before; both of them were comfortable with it.

“Brace your hands on the desk. Once you put them down lifting them will be a signal to stop so make it count,” Yuri said and waited. He let Otabek take his time deciding where and how he wanted to hold onto the desk. When Otabek seemed reluctant to choose Yuri stepped up behind him, jeans pressing into Otabek’s bare thighs above the stockings, and pushed on his shoulders. Otabek bent.

Yuri growled in his ear “Decide or I do it for you.”

Otabek considered for another moment then stretched himself slightly further and gripped the far edge of the desk, wedging his fingers between it and the wall. That was a good way to get his fucking fingers smashed so Yuri reached around Otabek and pulled the desk forward, away from the wall. Otabek staggered slightly into Yuri’s body. It felt fucking awesome, having all that silk and lace and bare flesh pressed up against him. Then he put his hands on Otabek’s hips and stepped back. And back again. Leaving Otabek stretched over the desk, garter ties tight lines over his ass. He looked fucking decadent.

Yuri grabbed the spreader bar and knelt at Otabek’s feet. He secured one cuff around Otabek’s left ankle then nudged ever so slightly and Otabek spread his legs slowly until Yuri said, 

“Stop.”   


Then he fastened the other cuff. Yuri stood up and took in the new view. The corset was cinching Otabek’s waist, making the line of him completely new to Yuri, the purple cord gorgeous against Otabek’s skin. Two lines of ribbon lay taut against Otabek’s ass, holding up the stocking that made his legs look like they were shrouded in sin. The thin line of the panties’ waistband rested high on the swell of Otabek’s ass, framing his cheeks like a target. Yuri could see the shadow of his dick and balls, soft as it was, straining the panties and framed by the undone ties hanging from his hips. And now, with his legs spread, Yuri could see past the tiny string that made up the back of the panties to the glint of the plug that was still inside Otabek.  He smiled.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said and reached out.

At first, all he did was run his hands over Otabek’s ass, getting him used to the feel of Yuri touching him. Then he started to be a little rougher, grabbing and pushing the cheeks, running his nails hard over the tops of Otabek’s thighs where the stockings didn’t cover.

“You’re going to look even more gorgeous wrecked,” he said right before his hand came down for the first smack. Otabek was silent. He was good at that. Yuri had a plan for when he finally broke that down, but he wanted to test Otabek’s control first.

Yuri was methodical in his spanking; this was a fucking warm up after all, the intense part would come later. He was careful to begin light. Otabek didn’t even flinch at the first couple, skin not  even briefly darkening. He could see Otabek’s shoulders tense; he knew more was coming but didn’t know when. Yuri normally barrelled right into pain play and Otabek liked that, being pushed hard before being allowed to settle. But this wasn’t a short program where you started fast and hard and kept that intensity up for the sprint. This scene was a free program; you warmed up slow so that you could finish strong. This was the all-day practice session near the beginning of the season where you pushed your endurance more than your strength. Otabek would get his pain, but later, when he was ready and warm and aching for it.

Yuri made sure to cover all the flesh he was going to abuse later, warming it up before he even thought about increasing the force. He let Otabek get used to the rhythm of the taps and caresses, the way he avoided flesh covered by cloth. He increased the force of his taps incrementally as he went but stayed well below any sort of pain threshold.

Yuri tapped the inside of Otabek’s left thigh with his palm, the last place that he hadn’t hit on that round. Then he immediately, out of rhythm, hit the outside of Otabek’s right thigh with a hard, stinging slap. Otabek jerked and flinched and made a bitten-off noise that sounded like it wanted to be a scream. Yuri smiled. Otabek was so good.

“You’ll get what you want,” he said, fondling Otabek’s ass, “just be patient.”

Otabek’s head dropped down and Yuri went back to the light taps. He made them a little harder now, not that Otabek seemed to notice. And every so often, never in any sort of pattern, he added a harsh slap in between taps. Otabek was feeling it now, but every time he braced for the slap Yuri drew out the gentle play longer. It fucking worked. Otabek knew what Yuri was doing and stopped bracing himself. Yuri hit unresisting flesh over and over and gloried in it. He gave more of the harsh slaps as a reward and Otabek’s head dropped, surrendering fully to Yuri’s control. Good to know he trusted Yuri to know what he was fucking doing. Yuri had done so much fucking reading and watched so many instructional videos (the kind you don’t even get off to) to learn how to be good at this shit. And yeah, on a different day Yuri’d probably still go straight into the pain because that’s how Otabek liked it, but this wasn’t that day. This was Yuri letting Otabek know that he could control him and still make it good. Make it fucking amazing.

Otabek’s ass and thighs were a gorgeous even red by the time Yuri was finishing up. And Otabek was breathing deeply and evenly through it. Yuri grinned; time to end that. He ended with five hard slaps right over Otabek’s crack. At the first Otabek tightened then let out a surprised gasp. The next four made him shake.

“Forgot you had something inside you right?” Yuri said with a grin. Otabek just breathed, shoulders and legs trembling slightly.

Yuri reached out and parted Otabek’s cheeks. He leaned down and blew on the reddened flesh.  Then he grabbed the plug with his other hand and pulled slowly. He got it to its thickest point and then let it pop back in. The next time he pulled it out he ran a finger around the stretched muscles. They’d tightened up a little since the massage, which made sense; it’d been a couple hours after all. He let the plug pop back in and laid a smack right on top of it. Otabek’s hips jerked.

“Stay there for a moment. I’ve got to grab something,” Yuri told him and stepped away. Yuri found the lube in the nightstand and put the other two toys in easy reach but out of Otabek’s view. He took in Otabek’s flushed ass against the black and purple and almost groaned. He couldn’t see Otabek’s face from this angle, but the set of his shoulders and the line of his back read as desperate. Yuri could see Otabek’s dick, which was filling the panties even more than before, pulling the thong tight against his ass.

Yuri stepped up and just pressed himself against the heat of Otabek’s flushed skin. He draped his body over Otabek’s and thrust against him a few times. Otabek let out a low, breathy moan.

“Yeah, you aren’t that fucking lucky,” Yuri breathed against his ear, “we’ve got way more to do.”

Otabek groaned and Yuri thrust a few more times to relieve his own desire a little. Fuck he’d love to just rut against Otabek until he came.  Maybe take out his dick and cover Otabek’s ass with his come. But that wasn’t the plan and the plan was fucking awesome so Yuri tore himself away.

Yuri lubed up the fingers of one hand and spread Otabek’s ass with the other. So fucking gorgeous. He played with the plug for a while, pulling it back slightly and watching it pop back inside. He added lube, smearing it on Otabek’s rim and using the plug itself to push more inside him. Otabek was groaning softly now, hips shifting restlessly. He wasn’t pleading yet. Honestly that was probably a good thing considering they were still in the warm-up.

Finally Yuri pulled the plug all the way out. Otabek let out a tiny moan that sounded a little lost.  Yuri watched his hole clench on nothing for a moment before drawing back to put the plug down and pick up the vibrator he’d gotten out. It was deep purple to match the stitching and cording on the corset (let it not be said that Yuri can’t follow a fucking theme) and shaped and detailed like a dick. It had a flared base that had the controls on it; five different levels that Yuri was looking forward to using on Otabek. And it was powerful; Yuri’d tried it on himself when it had finally been delivered and fuck was it great.

Yuri lubed up the vibrator and brought it to rest against Otabek’s ass, spreading his cheeks again. Otabek let out a shaky breath.

“Not my dick,” Yuri snorted, “but you’re going to love it anyway.”

Yuri leaned down and kissed Otabek’s back, just above the top of the corset lacing. At Otabek’s answering exhale Yuri pushed the vibrator in. He kept pushing in a slow, steady thrust until it was buried to the base. Otabek’s prolonged groan made Yuri want to rip the fake dick out of him and replace it with his real one.

Yuri steadied himself and bit the place he’d just kissed. Otabek let out a short gasp and when Yuri leaned back he was treated to the gorgeous sight of Otabek’s hole twitching and clenching around the deep purple vibe. Yuri wanted to moan himself. Instead he raised a hand and smacked one of Otabek’s ass cheeks hard. Otabek jerked and his head came up only for his mouth to drop open in the most amazing stunned and overwhelmed expression when Yuri turned the thing on.

Yuri leaned in and kissed that expression right off his face (he’d put it back, no fucking worry about that), fucking Otabek’s mouth with his tongue. Otabek clearly didn’t know what to focus on, mouth lax and pliant to Yuri’s touch. Yuri smiled into the kiss and then pulled back. He pulled away from Otabek completely and at Otabek’s little distressed noise he said,

“Just going to wash my hands. Fucking again. This is a fucking dirty scene.”

He didn’t take very long but by the time he got back Otabek was shifting restlessly, trying to fuck back onto the vibe inside him. Didn’t work of course, but it was a fucking spectacular sight to see him rocking in those purple heels with the matching vibe sticking out of his ass, stockings and panties and corset framing the picture, his ass a flushed red backdrop, lube glistening around the vibe.

“Should take some fucking artsy photos of you or some shit,” Yuri said. Otabek went rigid for a moment. And Yuri realized the misstep instantly.

“Fuck, I won’t. Shit, sorry. I wouldn’t ever. Just want to be able to remember this, have you see what you look like. You’re fucking gorgeous,” Yuri babbled. He knew Otabek didn’t want pictures, that they were a hard no for him but he had to go put his foot in his fucking mouth and now he’d ruined everything and shit shit shit.

Except Otabek had relaxed and said, breathy and low,

“It’s fine, Yuri. You didn’t fuck up. This is so fucking good for me-” He broke off on a gasp as his hips twitched. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out.

Yuri was so fucking glad this worked out. He hadn’t ruined it. He was rocking Otabek’s entire fucking world. Of course.

Yuri still went to sit on the desk by Otabek, that was always part of the plan so no change there.  He stroked Otabek’s shoulders and back above the corset. Ran his hands down the silk. Felt Otabek trying to breathe deeply and failing because of the boning. Yuri peppered Otabek’s flesh with kisses; sucking hickeys into the skin. He marked Otabek as his. He kept this up until Otabek seemed to calm down, getting used to the vibration; then he reached out and turned it up a notch. Otabek jerked, his hips bobbing and his hands clenching on the desk.

Yuri could see Otabek’s jaw clench to hold back a shout and decided to be kind. He kissed Otabek, long and hard, using and claiming his mouth. When he pulled back, Otabek was trying to breathe and only managing to take shallow, rapid breaths. Yuri put a hand on his back and said,

“Breathe slowly.”

Otabek’s head went back down and slowly he calmed down. Once he could get enough air again Yuri took the hand off Otabek’s back and brought it down hard on Otabek’s ass. He followed that quickly with a bite to Otabek’s shoulder and Otabek jerked so hard the desk lifted slightly. Yuri slid off it, a little unsteady at having it move under him. He didn’t say anything to Otabek though, his hands hadn’t left the desk and Yuri hadn’t restricted his movements other than that. Also, he’d managed to stay silent which was super fucking impressive.

Yuri went back around to Otabek’s ass and caressed it for a few moments. It was starting to fade from the bright red into a duller shade. Yuri leaned down and bit, right below the bottom of the corset, and pinched the inside of Otabek’s thigh at the same time. This time Otabek didn’t flinch away but he did give a short, high, startled whine at the pain. Yuri kissed the flesh he’d just bitten and sucked at it to make sure there’d be a mark there tomorrow. Then he stepped back completely.

“Gonna use one last toy for this part,” Yuri said, and reached for it, “something we’ve used before and something you really fucking enjoy.”

Yuri let the strands of the flogger flop softly onto Otabek’s ass. Otabek’s head jerked up again.

“Yeah?” Yuri questioned.

“With,” Otabek had to stop and clear his throat, “with the vibe?” he managed to get out. His voice was low and breathy, like he couldn’t get enough air. Yuri wasn’t sure if it was the thought or the corset but either way it was fucking hot.

“You remember your safeword?” Yuri asked. He wanted to know if this wasn’t okay because shit, he didn’t want to fuck it all up again.

Otabek was silent for a minute, probably taking stock of himself and what he figured he could handle. Yuri just stood there patiently, vibe humming away in Otabek’s ass, the black leather of the flogger looking like sin against the fading red of Otabek’s ass and the silk of the outfit he was wearing.

“Yes, I remember” was all Otabek said. Yuri breathed out and came around to kiss him again.

“I’m going to make this so fucking good for you,” he said when he pulled back and Otabek gave him a smile.

“I know you will,” Otabek said and shifted his hips minutely. The movement drew Yuri’s attention to Otabek’s dick which wasn’t just straining at the panties now, but pushing them away from his body. The head was poking out and looking fucking amazing as it sat above the lace, twitching slightly as Yuri watched. Time to make it twitch even more.

Yuri got off the desk and walked back to Otabek’s ass. He laid the flogger gently on Otabek’s cheeks again, and Otabek’s hips twitched at the touch. Yuri did it again, lightly and gently laying the strands of leather on Otabek’s flesh.

Only after Otabek relaxed did Yuri hit him hard. Otabek let out a sharp, high noise at the hit, jerking his hips away then back as he clenched on the vibe. Yuri let him ride it out and then did it again.   


“Remember to be quiet,” he said after the third hit and third wordless strangled shout. Otabek whined low in his throat, head up and staring blindly at the wall. Yuri saw him clench his jaw and hit him again. Otabek was silent this time.

Yuri began with lighter hits than he’d been using on Otabek before switching to the flogger and made sure to avoid the area right around the vibe. The first hit to his inner thigh made Otabek’s thighs jerk and try to close but the spreader bar stopped them. That reminder made Otabek whine and wobble a little on the heels. Yuri let him regain his balance before hitting the other inner thigh, starting to ramp up the pressure.

When he got back to the level from before the flogger, he stopped. He set the flogger down and spent some time kissing and caressing Otabek’s ass and thighs. He sucked a deep purple hickey into the crease between Otabek’s cheek and thigh. He fondled the lace tops of the stockings and gently snapped the garter ribbons. That got a gasp out of Otabek that made Yuri smile against his ass and hold off on doing it again. Then he stood up, leaned over, and pulled Otabek’s head around to kiss him; swallowing his shout when he turned up the vibe again.  When Yuri pulled back Otabek was trembling from head to toe, dick twitching and swaying within its flimsy confines.

Yuri asked if Otabek wanted to safeword. Otabek just glared at him. Yuri tapped the vibe directly in retribution and walked away to stretch out his hands for a moment. Otabek had gotten himself mostly under control by the time Yuri stepped in close again, though his hips were shifting almost constantly and there was a twitch to his legs that gave away his attempts to move them.  Shutting them or opening them wider, Yuri couldn’t tell. Otabek’s hands had relaxed too. Yuri had been keeping an eye on them but Otabek remembered to relax them every time he got a break. Fucking awesome. Yuri picked the flogger back up and started on the real beating.

Yuri spread the pain around, making sure only to hit the same piece of flesh twice in a row when he really wanted it to hurt. He no longer gave Otabek time to calm down after every blow, hitting him again when he tried to thrust (and failed, heh) back onto the vibe inside him. Otabek’s head dropped. Yuri was sure that if he could see Otabek’s eyes, they’d be glazing over. Fucking yes. Finally, they were getting there. He kept going until Otabek’s reactions plateaued a little. Yuri took a moment at that to stretch out his hands and make Otabek breathe some more. The corset was definitely making that more difficult for him; not impossible or even very hard but enough that Yuri had to remind him in these quiet moments. Yuri ran his hand through Otabek’s hair, and thought about what he was going to do next. He reached for a pair of icy blue panties; full ones this time, no thong, but still with shit tonnes of lace.

“I wore them to watch your free skate,” Yuri whispered into Otabek’s ear, “and got myself off in them in the bathroom after; rubbing the silk on my dick, thinking of you fucking me in there.”

Otabek’s eyes were wide and glazed as he stared at the panties.

“I wore them all through your Exhibition skate too. Sticking to them while you were out there in that fucking transparent hoodie,” he finished. He balled them up and shoved them into Otabek’s mouth. He gave him a quick, soft kiss over and around them and went back to the flogger.

Yuri got back into the rhythm and continued for a short time. He saw Otabek’s dick swinging, inching the panties down ever so slightly on each sway. He stopped and ran his nails over Otabek’s ass, snapping the garter straps deliberately this time. Otabek lost it for a moment, thrusting wildly and rattling the spreader bar. He was making a high pitched whining noise in the back of his throat, muffled by the cloth in his mouth, by the time he was done writhing. Yuri did it again.

Once Otabek was no longer rocking the desk Yuri grabbed his hips and held him still. Otabek froze. Truthfully, there was no way Yuri could actually hold Otabek still with just his arms but Otabek’s obedience did the work for him. It was fucking hot as hell to watch. Yuri’s dick twitched in his jeans. He pulled a hand back to adjust himself. Then he reached for Otabek’s panties. He pulled them out slightly at the hips and slid his thumbs under the fabric. He shifted his thumbs so they didn’t touch Otabek and slid them around to the front of the fabric, ribbon draping over his wrists. Otabek had started breathing harder and faster again, waiting for Yuri to touch his dick. Yuri grinned and shifted his hands so Otabek’s dick was covered in the lace again before drawing back. All without touching anywhere more sensitive than his flanks. Otabek let out a low muffled noise that might have been a moan. Or a curse.

At that Yuri took a deep breath, assessed Otabek and knew this was it. He reached out and flicked the switch on the vibe up one more, the buzzing overpowering in the quiet hotel room, top setting engaged. Then, while Otabek was trying not to scream, Yuri picked up the flogger and hit him hard on his ass. With that warning hit out of the way Yuri pulled back and brought the flogger down again, harder than he’d hit Otabek all evening. Yuri caught the flogger on the rebound and kept the momentum going. This time he aimed higher.

When Yuri hit Otabek’s shoulders for the first time in the evening, Otabek screamed. It was loud, managing to drown out the vibrator for a moment, but muffled by the panties in his mouth. That was Yuri’s fucking cue. He kept the hits coming. Fast and hard and unrelenting. He kept mostly to Otabek’s ass and thighs, the areas he’d warmed up, but every so often he’d hit Otabek’s shoulders and upper back to give him the sharp pain he always wanted.

Otabek was screaming now, hopefully muffled enough to keep the people on the other side of the wall from hearing them, but all too audible to Yuri. Otabek was trembling too and bucking wildly, unable to get away from the pain of the flogger and the intense pleasure of the vibrator. Yuri kept hitting him. Kept up the pain.

Otabek’s knees buckled, leaving him flat on the desk. Yuri kept hitting him.

Otabek stopped screaming. Yuri paused to check if he was remembering to breathe. He was and so Yuri kept hitting him.

Otabek unclenched his hands from the desk and Yuri dropped the flogger, catching him as he started to slide to the floor. Yuri groped for the vibe and managed to turn it off. He left it in as he got Otabek to the floor, Yuri acting as a cushion beneath him. Yuri spread his knees, keeping Otabek’s dick from getting any friction and cradled him.

Yuri didn’t time how long they lay on the floor. He stroked Otabek’s hair and rubbed his upper arms, avoiding any sensitive areas and places he’d hit. He let Otabek nuzzle into his chest and get snot and tears all over his (fucking awesome) t-shirt. He murmured nonsense shit about how Otabek was gorgeous and perfect and did so well, exactly what Yuri had wanted (it was all completely true). This was the part Yuri had sucked at before more than anything.  He got impatient and antsy. But he told himself to calm his fucking tits because this was the most important part and if he screwed this up it’d be like failing out at provincials and he’d be a disgusting loser that was never coming back and might as well fucking retire.

After what felt like a small eternity, Otabek opened his eyes and spit the panties out.

“Back with me?” Yuri asked. Otabek tried to respond but the words turned into a cough, then he started wheezing.

“Fuck, breathe. Slower, damn it. You’re still wearing the fucking corset remember?” Yuri babbled. Otabek snorted what was almost a laugh and got control of his breathing. Yuri reached, and reached, and eventually felt like a loser when he asked,

“Can you reach the bottle of water on the table?” Otabek lifted his head slightly and then pushed himself up on a shaky arm but managed to paw it off the table. It hit the ground right next to Yuri’s ear, making him flinch.

“Fuck! Asshole,” Yuri squeaked out. He opened the bottle and held it out to Otabek.

“Drink some of this.” Otabek drank, at first slow but then longer and deeper. Yuri grabbed a damp cloth from where he’d thrown it down casually sometime earlier and wiped off Otabek’s face; getting him to blow his nose when he was done.

“Fuck that was intense,” Yuri sighed as he let his head fall back to the floor, “You okay?”

This time Otabek’s voice worked when he tried to use it. 

“Yeah. Good. so good,” he said, melting into Yuri’s chest, “the vibrator was amazing. And the heels made balancing hard and the corset made breathing hard.”

“You could the entire time right? It wasn’t too tight?” Yuri asked.

“No, I wouldn’t have wanted it tighter, you were right about that,” Otabek smiled into Yuri’s chest and Yuri felt so fucking vindicated. He felt like he could fight every one of his critics and win.

“I had to think about breathing, but you caught me when I forgot, and the spanking and the flogging was so fucking great,” Otabek continued and stretched at the memory, “exactly perfect.  I was disappointed with the start but I think that’s the hardest you’ve ever hit me? I won’t be able to sit at the gala tomorrow.”

Yuri felt a flash of heat at the thought of Otabek, standing all night because he was too sore to sit, pressing his back against the wall to feel the marks and bruises Yuri left. He tried to shift subtly; a flash of heat through Otabek’s eyes said he probably failed. Whatever, subtlety wasn’t his strong point anyway.

“It was the hardest, I worked a fuck ton on my technique over the season. It’s an amazing arm exercise,” Yuri said. Otabek nodded. He looked pleased. Then he paused.

“The panties,” he paused again, not seeming to know what to ask or how, “did you really…” He trailed off.

“Fucking hell yes,” Yuri said proudly, “I tested the vibe too. Couldn’t use that shit on you without trying it on myself first.”

Otabek dropped his head and cursed into Yuri’s chest. His hips began searching for a place to grind down on.

“Hey, none of that shit,” Yuri said, “we are definitely not done yet.”

Otabek looked up at him in desperation.

“Fucking hell.”

 

****

 

Otabek was glad when Yuri unhooked the cuffs from the spreader bar and pulled the vibe out of him.  They both got up and walked around, stretched and talked about things completely unrelated to the scene. Yuri picked up some fruit and cheese from the plates still on the table and handed them to Otabek. Otabek ate gratefully. He kicked off the heels, stood in the middle of the room in stockinged feet, and stuffed his mouth with food. Yuri disappeared into the bathroom and Otabek was apparently still out of it because he had trouble tracking how long he’d been in there. It shouldn’t have been very long but it felt like an hour or two. Eventually, Yuri came back and stood beside him, sharing his body heat and the intimacy. Yuri took each of his hands in turn and massaged the cramps out of them. Otabek hadn’t realized how hard he’d been gripping the desk; he was kind of surprised he could hold the fruit right now.

Once the food was gone and Otabek had downed another bottle of water, watching as Yuri swallowed an entire bottle of his own - as well as an entire apple in three bites and what seemed like half a wheel of cheese - Yuri gave one last stretch, eyes fluttering briefly, and asked,

“Ready to go?”

Otabek took stock of himself. His shoulders still stung from the beating. His ass felt like it was on fire, not helped by the silk resting on it, and empty. That was always a weird feeling but Otabek was pretty sure Yuri would get it taken care of soon enough, hopefully with his cock. He was breathing fine again despite the corset, though he was feeling it more than before and would be glad to get it off.  His hands were better after the massage but still feeling tender and sore.  His legs were shaky and tense, not recovered from the day of skating and then standing and bracing in those heels. His voice felt like it was on the edge of being lost completely. He was still hard. Not quite as urgently, but he still ached with it, cock barely contained by the now filthy silk and lace.

“I’m good,” he said to Yuri, “I’m not quite on my last thread anymore but I’m not far from it. I don’t think I need more of a break. Depends on how long you want me to last.”

Otabek sincerely hoped that Yuri didn’t want him to last much longer because he wasn’t sure if he could hold back. The beating had done him in, physically and mentally. He had been so close to coming just from that and the vibe. He was pretty sure that if Yuri had even grazed his cock he’d have been gone. Permission or no. But Yuri knew him better than that now. Knew not to touch him. This was spectacular and if Yuri wanted to go all night, teasing and tormenting him, then Otabek would go with it. Head off to the gala hard and aching and ready to beg anyone willing to take him. He’d do it because Yuri knew his limits, had learned them over the past months, and was working him right up to them and stretching him past them into territory he’d never seen before. Otabek wanted to know how far he could stretch before he snapped.

Yuri hummed and looked thoughtful for a moment.

“We’ll go slow then for a while. Get on the bed, face up,” he said eventually. Otabek turned to the bed, covers still rumpled from their nap, sheets askew, plastic showing underneath at one corner.

“Want me to get it put together first?” he asked. Yuri looked up from a drawer he was rummaging through (seriously, how many things did he stash in here while Otabek was busy with the press?) and took in the bed.   


“Oh, Fuck fuck fuck, no. Just. I don’t know. Shit,” Yuri babbled as he scrambled around to fix the bed. Otabek knew that look and babbling; Yuri was blaming himself for not being perfect.  Otabek caught Yuri in a hug and just held onto him for a moment.

“I don’t hate you because you forgot to make the bed. You didn’t ruin anything. Let me help make the bed, the break and work will help me calm down a little more anyway.” Otabek murmured into Yuri’s neck.

“You shouldn’t have to do any fucking work. This is about you and relaxing and shit--”Yuri broke off, frustrated.

“I want to help with the bed. I’m not some pampered drama queen who can’t help get his own scene ready,” Otabek said firmly. Yuri snorted, then started to laugh.

“Fuck, can you imagine Georgi,” he laughed, “flailing at his partner, not willing to touch the soiled sheets.” Otabek began to laugh too.

They got the bed ready together, stripping the sheets to take the plastic off, re-making the bed, folding the comforter in an out-of-the-way yet easily accessible place for later. Otabek was right too. His body calmed at the boring, normal work. His cock was still hard but no longer aching to come right this moment.

When it was all done Otabek went to lay on the bed but Yuri stopped him.

“Changed my mind. Stay right there,” he said, sliding seamlessly back into commanding, like he was transitioning from one spin to another. Otabek stayed, responding to the command, and sinking back into the headspace demanded by it.

Yuri came back with two long lengths of purple rope, the same colour as the cord on the corset.

“Left arm,” Yuri demanded and Otabek held it out. Yuri’s look of utter concentration and fierce determination was the same one he wore when he was practicing a difficult skating element. It was extremely attractive and also absolutely comforting to realize that Yuri took this so seriously.  Though, honestly, taking things seriously hadn’t ever been Yuri’s problem.   


When Otabek had introduced him to his friends, they hadn’t been sure what to make of this pretty, intense boy that Otabek had started dating. Otabek’s friends were fun; they were the ones he talked bikes with and went to clubs with. Otabek was a skater but none of the rest of them were. Skating was Otabek’s passion and career, but that wasn’t all he was. His friends came to his competitions to support him and he went to their stuff to support them (thesis defenses, concerts, really really weird art performances, kids’ birthday parties). Yuri seemed not to fit at first; he was too intense, too focused on only skating. But the look on his face when the entire group showed up at the Four Continents with signs with his name on them (and Zeal’s four year old daughters wearing kitty ears) was heartbreaking.

What followed was a time of intense embarrassment for everyone as Yuri got too focused on being the perfect friend and boyfriend that off-season. It was then that Otabek had opened up about what he needed from his sex life and Yuri had tried way too hard and nearly smothered the entire relationship before it got good. But Otabek and Yuri talked, Otabek’s friends managed to get Yuri to calm down and act like his normal, pissy self around them (they thought he was the funniest thing ever and fully approved), and the season started up again. Over the months that followed Otabek had come to really enjoy Yuri’s company and adore him, high strung tendencies and all. When Yuri hurt his ankle midway through the season and was told that if he ever wanted to skate again he was going to have to take the rest of it off, Otabek waited for the explosion. He got it eventually, but in private, and Yuri seemed honestly more shattered than explosive. Yuri had actually spent most of the season back in Canada working with one of their friends on his choreography and music for next year. Knowing who he was working with, Otabek was a little afraid. Both for his libido and for his ears. She’d set an incredible pole dance performance to the most atonal, experimental music he’d ever heard. And it was hot as hell. He was scared of what she and Yuri would come up with.

While Otabek had been revelling in Yuri’s focus, Yuri had wound the ropes intricately around each arm. The rope was soft and Yuri kept testing it to make sure it wasn’t too tight. He kept murmuring that the deep purple rope looked amazing against Otabek’s skin and that this was going to relieve the strain of holding onto things, Otabek could just let loose soon. Otabek closed his eyes and just let himself feel the rope and Yuri’s hands, and drown himself in Yuri’s voice.

Yuri tapped Otabek’s cheek when he was finished and Otabek opened his eyes. Yuri was sweaty and mussed, gorgeous.

“Now you get on the bed,” Yuri said, “on your back.”

Otabek hissed at just the thought; his shoulders and ass still stung and the sheets would feel like sandpaper against them. He gave an involuntary shiver at the thought and went to the bed.  Yuri knew what he liked.

Otabek lay on the bed and raised each arm when Yuri asked for them. Yuri tied them each snugly to a corner of the headboard. He asked Otabek the usual bondage questions about fit and feel and Otabek answered honestly. Once his arms were trussed up, Yuri got Otabek a pillow for his head. It put Otabek’s head at a slight angle and he could see down the length of his body, the corset pinching his waist, the stockings encasing his legs, the panties barely holding his cock in check, ribbons splayed out to the sides. He nestled down into the bed, rubbing his shoulders and ass into the sheets just to feel the sting and burn, and got comfortable.

Yuri smirked and rolled his eyes while he picked up the spreader bar again. He lifted each of Otabek’s feet and bent his knees, placing each stockinged foot on the bed in the precise place he wanted it. Yuri hooked the cuffs, the ones Otabek was still wearing, to the bar once again.  Otabek rattled them a little and strained at the ropes on his forearms to test them. He relaxed all at once when everything held him fast. It felt so good to be bound. He didn’t need to worry about what his hands or feet were doing, he could just trust the bonds to keep him where Yuri wanted him to be.

Yuri pushed his knees so they fell apart as much as they could with his ankles cuffed to the bar.  Otabek felt deliciously exposed; he couldn’t cover himself at all. He arched his back, showing off for Yuri. Yuri just grinned and let him as he hopped off the bed and put some things onto the floor beside the bed. Where Otabek couldn’t see them. Bastard. Then he hopped back onto the bed and sat right on the spreader bar between Otabek’s knees. The weight pushed his feet deep into the mattress.

“The pressure okay?” Yuri asked. Otabek nodded; the bed was soft enough that his feet sank in and the cuffs were attached so that there was the tiniest bit of leeway for the bar to move; not enough to make a difference in spreading, but enough that between that and the mattress, Otabek’s ankles weren’t strained.

“Great,” Yuri said with feeling and leaned over Otabek, pressing into his stomach and across his cock, fuck, to get something from the floor. When he sat back up, he was holding Otabek’s favourite dildo. It was black and large enough to be intimidating (yet not large enough to be damaging if Otabek wore it for a while or he moved around in it), with a flared, flat base. Otabek moaned just looking at it. It was also curved just right for his body, hitting every sensitive place inside him. He clenched up just at the thought.

“Eager,” Yuri murmured, “better get this inside you if you want it that bad.”

And he followed up on that promise immediately, bringing the dildo to Otabek’s ass and pushing it against the rim. Otabek moaned, trying to spread his legs wider, to cant his hips into the pressure, the bar and cuffs and Yuri’s weight stopping him.

“Shit, you really haven’t calmed down that much have you,” Yuri said in an awed tone, “that is fucking hot.”

Then he pushed the dildo in a bit; Otabek couldn’t tell for sure how much but it felt like nothing, before pulling it almost completely out. He did it again, filling Otabek only slightly more before leaving him all but empty again. Otabek let his head fall back to the pillow and stared at the ceiling. This was going to take a while and if Otabek watched he’d only be impatient and get closer to the edge (which would be both glorious but also torture because there was no way Yuri was going to let him come from just this). This way he could only feel what was going on; just let it happen to him. He didn’t close his eyes; Yuri hadn’t asked him to.

Finally, the dildo was all the way in. Yuri sat back and Otabek let himself move and shift, really feeling it inside him, marrying that feeling with the sting of his shoulders and the tightness of his waist. He let out a low moan at the feeling. Yuri echoed it. When Otabek looked down across his own body, Yuri was sitting there, flushed, hair escaping its fastening. Otabek gave him a dazed smile and shifted again, deliberately. Yuri’s eyes followed his movements hungrily and another moan left his lips. Then he shook himself and focused again. Otabek was always impressed with his control.

Yuri leaned forward, bracing himself with hands to either side of Otabek’s chest. He arched his back like the cats he loved and Otabek was about to laugh at that when he realized Yuri was doing it so he didn’t give Otabek’s cock any friction and ended up cursing instead. Yuri chuckled and then dropped his head to Otabek’s chest and sucked one of his nipples into his mouth.

Otabek jerked. He strained against the bonds that held him, ass burning from rubbing against the sheets, dildo feeling giant inside him as he clenched down on it. He clenched his jaw against the sounds that wanted to escape as Yuri sucked and licked at his nipple. He should have expected this. Yuri knew that Otabek’s nipples were sensitive. And the more aroused Otabek was the more sensitive they got. He’d been on edge for what felt like days and a stiff breeze could torture him now if it blew across his chest. The nipple Yuri was sucking felt like it had a direct line to his cock, pleasure jolting through him like lightning every time Yuri sucked with a little extra force.

Yuri pulled back and Otabek sighed in relief. Then he blew a stream of air over the abused nipple and Otabek had to gasp for air. He was getting better at breathing with the corset on but it still took concentration, concentration that he couldn’t spare because Yuri’s breath was causing Otabek’s nipple to freeze. A lock of Yuri’s hair fell out of the fastening and dropped to Otabek’s chest, silky strands lying along his sternum and the top of the corset.

When Otabek finally had his breathing back Yuri started licking around the other nipple, never actually applying any significant pressure. Otabek let out a low curse. Yuri was a tease.  A fucking shitty terrible tease (he was way too good at it). Yuri only grinned and brought a hand up from bracing himself to circle a finger ever so lightly around the nipple he’d abandoned.

Otabek started shifting. He could never stay still when his nipples were played with; he lost all control. As Yuri started sucking on one in earnest while keeping the finger on the other light and barely there, using his own hair to brush and tickle it, Otabek began babbling. He had no idea what he was saying  but he thought maybe it was mostly cursing.

Then Yuri pinched the nipple he’d been circling and Otabek’s eyes rolled back in his head as he arched his back and forgot to breathe completely. The pain in his nipple was only enhanced by the stinging in his shoulders and ass. Just as he managed to take a breath and relax, Yuri bit the other nipple hard and Otabek arched again, gasping, trying to breathe despite the corset. He couldn’t get enough air and when Yuri bit the areola of that same nipple, Otabek could feel his eyes water and his vision start to darken.

Yuri backed off and Otabek tried to get control of his breathing. He managed one solid breath, as deep as possible with the corset on, and Yuri pinched both nipples hard. Otabek’s back arched violently and he could feel Yuri nearly fall over from the force of it. He couldn’t breathe.  The breaths he was taking were too shallow, too rapid. Yuri leaned down and sucked one nipple for a moment, the warmth and pressure and pleasure just making everything more overwhelming.

“Breathe,” Yuri commanded but Otabek couldn’t, he couldn’t.

“Hold it in,” Yuri commanded and Otabek tried.  He tried and failed.

“Look at me, Otabek,” Yuri commanded and that, that Otabek could do. He opened his eyes and saw Yuri sitting between his thighs, hair a mess and falling out of the ponytail it had been in, black tiger face shirt and jeans both rumpled and sweat soaked.

“Look at my face.” and Otabek couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever refuse that command.

“Good.  That’s awesome Otabek. Now breathe with me okay? No breaths in or out unless I take them,” Yuri said and took a breath in. Otabek was helpless to do anything but follow. Yuri let the breath out and so did Otabek. He felt like he was suffocating. He wasn’t getting enough air. But slowly his body calmed down. Slowly the air he got was enough. Yuri just kept breathing, slow and steady and never taking his eyes off Otabek’s.

“You okay now?” Yuri asked. It took a moment but Otabek managed to nod.

“You want to use your safeword?” Otabek shook his head at that question. Yuri hummed in thought. Then nuzzled at Otabek’s chest well away from the nubs he’d been playing with.

“No biting or pinching in the corset,” was what Yuri came up with. He looked at Otabek and Otabek thought about it. It had been glorious until it was suddenly too much.

“Yellow,” he rasped out, throat raw and aching. Yuri nodded seriously.

Yuri started to lick and kiss his chest, staying away from the nipples. Otabek slowly relaxed, concentrating on breathing. Yuri started dropping a kiss here or there on his nipples and then sucking briefly until Otabek was shifting and letting out soft moans again.

“That’s it,” Yuri murmured, “let me hear you.”

Yuri worked him until he was cursing again.  Nonsensical words, interspersed and interrupted by moans. Otabek was shifting, trying to grind up into Yuri or press back onto the dildo or just rub his ass on the bed, anything for more sensation. When he felt like he would come at the slightest breath, Yuri pulled back. All the way back.

Yuri was breathing hard and flushed, shifting his hips the same way Otabek was. Otabek let out a low moan at the sight.

Yuri glared at him. “Shut up, asshole, this is your fucking fault. Do you know how fucking hot you are right now?”

Otabek lowered his eyelashes and arched his back, presenting for his dom.

“Fuck,” Yuri spat out, flush darkening on his cheeks, “okay, you know what. Fine.”

Then Yuri got up off the bed and grabbed his shirt and practically tore it off himself. He actually snapped the button of his jeans off, it pinged off a lampshade and ended up who knows where, in his hurry to get rid of them. He came back to Otabek and grabbed the spreader bar and yanked it down the bed. Otabek’s legs dropped and he could feel his eyes widen and a groan punch out of him at the way that made the dildo move inside him. Then Yuri straddled his thighs and Otabek realized how this was going to happen. He was fucked. So much more so because Yuri wasn’t going to fuck him.

Otabek nearly let his head fall back but then saw Yuri reaching behind himself and Otabek would never miss a chance to see Yuri finger himself. Yuri paused halfway through the motion and then bent in half so he could reach the floor. He did it without moving his hips which was just a tease. He came back up with a tube of lube in one hand and something else in the other.  He placed them down by Otabek’s hip and then reached behind himself.

Yuri’s eyes went half lidded as he did something; it wasn’t the right motion for fingering. He straightened again and leaned over to put something on the nightstand beside Otabek’s head.  Otabek turned to look at it and it was a plug matching the one that had been in Otabek earlier.  Yuri had bought the pair at the beginning of the season and Otabek had nearly made a joke about being proposed to. The thought that Yuri had been wearing this (Since when?  For how long?) while playing with Otabek made Otabek go shakey again.

Yuri reached out and ran a light finger down the lace of the panties.

“You’re going to be good for me, Otabek. I’m going to ride you hard and you aren’t going to come.” Yuri said with that casual intensity that made Otabek want to drop to his knees in some very public, very embarrassing places. Then the words caught up to him and fuck. No. He wasn’t going to last. Even Yuri’s light fondling right now had him almost coming.

Otabek shook his head. Yuri pulled the panties down; hooked them under his balls. Otabek thrashed his head back and forth on the pillow as Yuri grabbed the lube and slicked him up.

“I can’t,” he gasped out. Yuri ignored him and lifted his cock, positioning himself over it. Otabek tried to grab onto him, to stop him, but his arms were caught in rope and Yuri sank down, engulfing the head of Otabek’s cock, with a groan.

Even that small amount was enough to make Otabek go wild. He strained at his bound arms, tried to find purchase with his feet, tried to thrust up into that soft tight space and found he couldn’t. His hips were held down, restrained. He glared down his body and saw Yuri kneeling on the ribbons of his panties. Fuck. Otabek cursed. And moaned. And collapsed onto the bed again. Yuri raised an eyebrow and sank down further. Otabek thrashed again.

By the time Yuri was fully seated Otabek was exhausted and only able to make a keening noise in the back of his throat, eyes squeezed shut.

“Otabek, look at me,” Yuri said. Otabek really didn’t want to. He was going to lose it again if he had to watch Yuri riding him. But he did. Because Yuri told him to.

“I have something here that might make it easier but I don’t want to overwhelm you,” Yuri said, holding a hand out, “last time your answer was yellow so I need a green or red now.”

Yuri opened his hand and a pair of padded clamps dropped down to hang on the chain hooked around his finger. Otabek let out a whine and closed his eyes. Yuri was sitting on him, straddling his hips, hair falling to drape over his shoulders, cock hard and red and dripping, jutting out from his crotch. His hand was held out, offering Otabek a toy that Otabek loved so much. And asking Otabek not to come.

“Green,” he managed to get out around the keening moan in his throat, “Just. Breathe with me?”  He could do it if Yuri helped. He wanted it so badly.

“Eyes open then,” Yuri said gently, “and keep them open from now on unless I tell you otherwise.”

Otabek opened his eyes and watched as Yuri reached forward and touched Otabek’s nipple.  Yuri rolled it around a little, catching Otabek’s eyes and holding them while Otabek rode out the pleasure. Then he looked down at what he was doing.

“Breath in,” Yuri said. Otabek obeyed and Yuri snapped the clamp on. Before Otabek could do more than tense and widen his eyes Yuri said,

“Breath out,” sharply enough to cut through the overwhelming pleasure-pain-can’t-breathe.  Otabek mindlessly followed the order. Yuri pet his chest, avoiding the newly clamped nipple and the bare one alike while Otabek came down from the pain. Then he started to roll the other in his fingers and Otabek started to tense already, pleasure and dread rising in him. Knowing what was coming.

“Otabek,” Yuri said sharply and Otabek forced himself to relax.

“Breath in,” Yuri said. Otabek did. Yuri put the clamp on and Otabek breathed out at Yuri’s command. Pain taking away everything except the sound of Yuri’s voice and the sight of Yuri’s face. Yuri walked him through a few more breaths and Otabek got used to the feeling of the clamps, the sting and pressure of them.

“Breathe,” Yuri said and Otabek watched the ceiling as he followed the order without thinking.  Yuri tugged on the chain and Otabek writhed, trying to thrust and get away from the pain at the same time. But he breathed. Yuri did it again and Otabek continued to breathe.

Otabek was so focused on the ceiling and breathing that he almost missed it when Yuri started to move. Almost.

It was good. Way too good. Otabek was going to come and Yuri hadn’t taken more than two strokes.

“Breathe.” Otabek breathed and Yuri tugged the chain. The flash of pain made the edge of orgasm back off for a moment. Yuri continued to take his pleasure and use Otabek’s cock.   


Every time Otabek got close, Yuri would tell him to breathe and tug on the chain. Otabek was caught between the pleasure of his cock and the pain of his nipples and it was too much. The dildo in his ass felt too big. The silk too soft. The restraints, all of them: ankles, arms, and hips, too firm. The corset too tight. It was all too much. When Yuri said,

“Otabek, look at me.”

Otabek shook his head, even as his eyes dropped from the ceiling to Yuri.

The first “no” left his lips as Yuri lifted up, using only his thighs, one hand still extended holding the chain to the nipple clamps like the reins of a horse.

That one refusal broke Otabek. The sight of Yuri flushed and rolling his hips, thigh muscles bunching and releasing, breathing hard had Otabek pleading. Mouth full of “no”s and “please”s and begging, gasping, promising anything if Yuri would just let him come.

Yuri’s only response to his pleading was to groan and ride him harder, tugging on the chain more often.  He didn’t have to remind Otabek to breathe now because Otabek was using his breath.  He got no warning now for when the shots of pain would come.  He could feel himself start to cry, tears leaking out of his eyes.  That got a low,

“Fuck,” 

out of Yuri and sent him scrabbling for his cock with the hand that wasn’t holding the chain. He stripped his cock, hard and fast, slamming down on Otabek, taking him for everything he had and more. Then Yuri gasped, managed to get out a strangled,

“Don’t take your eyes off me and don’t you fucking dare come,” before tightening around Otabek’s cock and painting the corset and his chest with fluid.

Otabek’s eyes were too wide, not even blinking, and he was keening. Not even pleading with words anymore. Yuri blinked back to himself and took in the mess he’d made of Otabek.  He shifted slightly and Otabek trembled, held on the very brink of orgasm by the last shreds of his control. Yuri reached out with his dirty, come streaked hand.

“Breathe,” he said, and pulled off one clamp. Otabek breathed on command but his eyes had slammed shut and his body jolted violently.

“Breathe,” Yuri said, and pulled of the other clamp. Otabek breathed but made no sound, unable to process anything except pain for a moment.   


When he finally came back to himself his eyes flew open. Yuri was standing at the side of the bed, massaging his thighs and groaning softly with the aftershocks of pleasure.

“Please,” Otabek whimpered.

“Fuck,” Yuri breathed out, “so fucking gorgeous.” then he left, disappearing into the bathroom.  Otabek started to cry. Sobs breaking out of his chest. He couldn’t do this. He just.

And Yuri was back, damp cloth touching his face, arms holding him as best they could.

“It’s almost over. You can hold on a little longer, I know you can,” Yuri murmured into his ear.  Otabek nosed at Yuri’s arm and Yuri bent down and kissed him. He pulled back and set the cloth down and then kissed him again. He pulled back and one of Otabek’s arms released and flopped down to the bed and then he kissed him again. He pulled back and the other arm released and he kissed him again. He pulled back and there was a jangling noise from what felt like lightyears away and then a second jangling noise. Otabek keened with the loss of the kisses. Yuri kissed him again.

Yuri pulled him up, still kissing him, and then pulled back and slipped behind him. He got Otabek settled against his chest in a slump and just cradled him there for a while. Then Yuri picked up the cloth and said,

“Breathe.”

Otabek breathed and Yuri touched the cloth to his cock. Otabek writhed in Yuri’s grip as Yuri reminded him to breathe and cleaned off his cock.

“All done,” Yuri said, and all Otabek could do was whimper.

“Got something to show you,” Yuri said and picked up the TV remote from the side table. When he flicked the TV on there was a still image of Yuri on the ice.

“You always say watching me skate gets you harder than anything else. So,” Yuri said and pressed another button. Music started to play and the Yuri on the screen began his program.  Otabek was lost, overwhelmed. Yuri was surrounding him, holding him down, propping him up, controlling his breathing. And Yuri was in front of him, lithe body bending and twisting, powerful and flexible and beautiful.

“You love watching me skate,” Yuri said against his ear, toying with the silk on his hip, “bet you want to fuck me over the boards. Or maybe on the ice itself. After a program when I’m collapsed on the ice- just fuck into me while I’m still breathing hard. Or bend me over in the kiss and cry while I’m waiting for my score, surrounded by flowers and stuffed toys.”

Otabek groans. The Yuri on the screen collapses onto the ice and Otabek can see it. See himself skating out and just ripping the costume open and taking him right there.

“Bet you wanted that back at my first Grand Prix.”

Otabek didn’t actually. Yuri had been too young and Otabek hadn’t been confident enough to even want anything like that. He and Yuri had danced around friendship and dating for years before finally getting their shit together.

The Yuri on the screen finished his routine and the Yuri behind him plucked at the garter straps.

The Yuri on screen began last year’s Short Program and Otabek moaned.

“Please. Please, Yuri,” he begged and the Yuri on the screen began to sway his hips. The Yuri behind him nuzzled into his neck.

“Keep your eyes on the screen,” Yuri said and then reached for Otabek’s cock.

It took barely a full stroke for Otabek to begin coming. His cock spurting come all over his thighs and stockings, corset and chest. A tiny bit landed on his cheek. Otabek was lost in the pleasure, bucking into Yuri’s fist, eyes stuck to the screen but unseeing. His toes curled in the stockings and he clamped down on the dildo, which felt huge and right inside him. The waves of pleasure seemed to go on forever, Yuri working him through them, prolonging them. Otabek was aware, distantly, that he was sobbing; crying at the relief and release.

Slowly, slowly he came down, Yuri still touching him and working his cock. Otabek was shivering from the overwhelming orgasm, muscles unable to calm down in the aftermath. He nuzzled into Yuri’s neck while straining to keep an eye on the screen. One of Yuri’s arms tightened around him. The other continued to play with his cock.

Otabek started to shift, trying to avoid the feeling of too much on his oversensitive skin, but Yuri just held him tight and kept playing. He kept up the stream of words and scenarios in Otabek’s ear, telling him all the things he wanted Otabek to do to him on the ice. All the things he wanted to do to Otabek.

On screen Yuri was skating one of his exhibition programs. The one from the year he turned eighteen. He was barely wearing anything and kept doing amazingly difficult elements with a sultry smile on his face. Otabek whimpered as Yuri brought his other hand down and both began massaging his cock.

“Stop,” Otabek said, breathless and on the edge of too much. Yuri hummed and then described him fucking Otabek as they did a pair spin; which Otabek knew was physically impossible but made him buck up into Yuri’s fist anyway. Then he immediately shied away because it hurt.

Yuri wrapped his hand around Otabek properly again, fresh with lube, and began working him.  His other hand went down and began fucking him with the dildo. Otabek writhed, trying to get away from the overstimulation. Pleas were falling out of his mouth. He was gasping for breath.  On screen, Yuri smiled at the camera, giving it a come hither look before the picture faded into Yuri’s free skate from this year.

Otabek was crying again, sobbing for Yuri to stop. Yuri kept fucking him with the dildo and jerking him off. The Yuri on screen was watery but Otabek could still see the perfect cant of his hips, the flow of his hair, the perfect, gorgeous execution of the quad triple combination in the second half.

Otabek’s orgasm caught both of them by surprise. Yuri let out a gasp and Otabek jerked, white blinding him and pleasure deafening him to anything but the pounding of his own heart.  He might have screamed or sobbed, he didn’t know. He just knew it went on for what felt like forever, waves of pleasure pounding at him. Dragging him along whether he wanted it or not.  Then everything went black.

When he finally blinked back to himself Yuri was there there, cradling him, hands well away from any erogenous zones. He nestled back and Yuri’s arms tightened around him.

They just sat and watched the screen for a while, coming down. Eventually Yuri got bored - Otabek was actually really impressed with his patience this evening - and began pointing out all the flaws in each performance. Otabek groaned, exasperated, and then tried to take a breath to speak and stopped short.

“Can I get out of the corset or do you have more planned?” Otabek asked. It was more important than teasing Yuri for his perfectionist tendencies.

“Yeah. definitely. And fuck, after that second orgasm I’m not sure anything I do could compare,” Yuri sounded impressed. “Did you know you could do that? And sit up a little.”

“Definitely didn’t know I could do that,” Otabek said and tried to sit up.  He was caught short by the dildo in his ass.

“Dildo first,” he gasped and Yuri reached down and pulled it out of him, slow and careful. It still wasn’t comfortable. Yuri tossed the dildo on the floor and helped Otabek sit up. Otabek braced himself on his knees, arms barely able to hold his weight, as Yuri carefully loosened the laces on the corset. Otabek felt a surge of pleasure at the first full breath he took and let out a shocked gasp.

“Fuck, you okay?” Yuri said, hands frozen.

“Fine, just. Air,” Otabek breathed. Yuri kept going and they eventually got the corset fully off.  Otabek arched and stretched in all the ways he couldn’t with it on, twisting and bending.  He felt like he’d never appreciated his spine before. He wondered if Yuri felt like this all the time, being able to bend whichever way he wanted. He let out a groan of relief and turned and kissed Yuri.  Yuri kissed him back but pulled away pretty fast.

“Food. And water. And get under the fucking blankets,” Yuri said, sounding a little irritated.  Otabek couldn’t help but laugh softly at him. Apparently Yuri was determined to get a gold medal in aftercare this time. Otabek felt warm all over at the care and drive that Yuri put into him.   


He got under the blankets while Yuri pulled some power bars and sports drink from who knows where. It wasn’t the tastiest food but it was easy and Otabek didn’t have to move to eat it so he wasn’t complaining. Yuri was eating absently, trying to clean up a little while he did.

“Come to bed, Yuri,” Otabek said and Yuri’s gaze snapped to him.

“Fuck. I’m fucking it up again aren’t I. Shit. Do you want to get out of the rest of the clothes?  I can get you something else to wear or more water or-”

Otabek cut him off, “Just you. In bed. With me.”

Yuri blinked and then swore again.

“Yeah, okay. Fine. I guess I can fucking do that,” Yuri said as he bolted over to the bed. Otabek lifted up the covers and Yuri slid in. Otabek kissed Yuri, Yuri kissed him back, and this time he didn’t pull back. They slid down the bed, making out. At some point Otabek got tired of the uncomfortable wedge of panties under his balls and just pulled them off completely.

“Gonna have to hash this out,” Yuri slurred into Otabek’s shoulder after they both got so tired they were missing each others’ mouths more than actually connecting.

“Yeah, but not till tomorrow,” he said. “Set an alarm? I have some award thing or something at noon.”

Yuri mumbled out his assent and fumbled with Otabek’s phone. Otabek reached for the covers.  On screen Yuri was reaching for the sky after skating about love. Otabek switched it off, kissed Yuri, and passed out.

  
THE END

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Extended Free Skate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10193099) by [Ailis_Fictive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailis_Fictive/pseuds/Ailis_Fictive), [RsCreighton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton)




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